


Irritation

by HyperKid



Series: Critter Gods [4]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Other, Traveler Con is coming guys, like Santa but for dicks on things, the Traveler is watching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-11
Updated: 2019-11-11
Packaged: 2021-01-28 21:30:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21398956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HyperKid/pseuds/HyperKid
Summary: The Traveler has some... well defined ways to send messages to those who aren’t his followers. And the Mighty Nein have an appointment to keep.
Relationships: Gods & clerics/paladins, The Storm Lord & Yasha, The Traveler & Jester Lavorre, The Wildmother & Caduceus Clay & Fjord
Series: Critter Gods [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1397104
Comments: 10
Kudos: 85
Collections: Critter Gods





	Irritation

**Author's Note:**

> HK: This was supposed to be longer, but I genuinely don’t remember anything else I had planned so there might be another chapter later.  
Mollymauk: That’s what you get for procrastinating.  
HK: I wasn’t procrastinating, I was writing an orgy!  
Mollymauk: So it’s what you get for procrasturbating.  
HK: ... That word is not catching on.  
Mollymauk: It will and you know it. 
> 
> WARNINGS!! Nothing much tbh? Just some chatting about dicks 
> 
> Disclaimer: I genuinely and seriously want y’all to take this idea and run with it and make it your own weird thing. I don’t own shit, you don’t own shit, come play in my sandbox.

The way Jester knew the Traveler had been watching them was because it started with Nott. She always assumed, of course, but there was just the faintest hint of relief when it started. 

It wasn’t anything big. Anything dramatic. Just... a warning. 

The flask ran dry. 

Of course, Nott didn’t believe it at first. She gave it a quick shake, heard liquid slosh, and went for another sip. 

Nothing came out. 

They were moving through the Dwendalian Empire, heading for Zadash. The rest of the Nein were busy, and before Nott could catch their attention it was over. She raised the flask to her eye to peer inside and it dumped at least three bottles worth directly into her face. 

She blamed the spell. 

The Traveler smiled. 

*** 

He was... well, not quite angry. Not quite that harsh. He preferred to think of it as a gentle reminder. Several gentle reminders. 

Jester spoke to him every night, her whispers and her sketches in her book reaching him wherever she was. 

It was when she promised she was definitely going to make Traveler Con that he began paying more attention. It was not something that needed saying. 

So he came to take a look. 

He’d known for months she was wound up tight, nearly ready to snap. Not known what to do about it, but he knew. 

So when he saw her flinch as Nott said they might not have “time” for her god... 

Well, he was busy. But he could always take a little time from his schedule when his favourite cleric was upset. 

*** 

The first time every rune on the Star Razor turned into a collection of dick pics, it was fast enough that Fjord thought he’d imagined it. The second, just a little longer. 

On the third time, at least two of the dicks being decidedly familiar, he hesitantly asked Caduceus how to speak to the Wildmother. 

The Wildmother didn’t bother speaking to the Traveler about it until Caduceus found a live chicken in his teapot. 

Things had been just a little tense at their small hideaway since the pact broke. Uk’otoa hadn’t made an appearance since, and privately the Traveler thought he might not have the strength. Had to direct more of his energies into finding a new champion. 

The Storm Lord was around, and gave them updates on his own champion when asked. But he was visibly angry when it came up, deep lines across his brows and sparks crackling off his beard. He cared deeply for his Yasha. 

So that seemed like the right time for a diversion. 

The Storm Lord was beginning to simmer when the Wildmother raised her cup of tea to her lips, shooting the Traveler an arch smile over it. 

“Speaking of distant friends. I believe you’ve been doing some more direct visiting of late?” A delicate brow rose. 

The Traveler didn’t bother to restrain his grin. The Storm Lord looked sharply between them, confused by the sudden shift in mood. 

The trickster let the moment stretch just a little, slowly stirring sugar into his own cup. Then he raised it, took a long drink, just to drag it out. 

Just before the Wildmother looked about to prod, he spoke. 

“I may have dropped by. Did your boys have any questions?” 

The goddess chuckled softly, leaning back in her seat and crossing her legs. 

“More than a few, but I believe the only one that matters, I already have an answer to.” 

“And which one would that be?” Intrigued in spite of himself, the Traveler leaned forward. He was sure she’d know why he was giving them his little nudges; it was obvious enough to find out. No, the question was, which question did she think mattered. 

The Wildmother smiled serenely and nudged a plate of cookies towards him with a gentle breeze. 

“I’m not going to ask you to stop.” 

The Storm Lord broke into low, deep chuckles, shaking his head and taking a cookie. 

“I believe they’d rather know why,” he pointed out before taking a bite. 

The Traveler shot him a broad smile. 

“I think we all know why, and if they put in a little effort it should be obvious enough. We have... an appointment to keep.” 

Kord stilled anruptly, lost in thought. Finally he sighed and shook his head. 

“I do not think Yasha will make it.” 

The room stilled for a moment, unsure what to say to that. Then the Traveler spread is hands. 

“She has a reason. The rest have no excuse. They know our little event is important to Jester. She should not have to defend that.” He glanced across at the Wildmother, a grin tugging at his lips again. “As I believe you understand.” 

Melora gracefully inclined her head, sitting up to refill her cup from the teapot in the middle of the table. 

“I believe I made my support quite clear to them.” 

*** 

As a Commune spell faded, Fjord and Caduceus wrenched their eyes from the smoke before them to exchange hesitant looks. Fjord broke the silence. 

“So... that looked like a dick to you too, right?” 

***

“And it is appreciated,” the Traveler assured her, nudging the sugar in her direction with a pointed raise of his brow. She pretended to consider it for a moment, then took three scoops, stirring them into the hot tea with an indulgent smile. 

“You know, my Clay never does sugar in his tea. I can’t imagine how to persuade him what he’s missing.” 

“I’d say you could sweeten it for him, but then he’d never learn on his own,” the Traveler agreed, adding another to his own. 

The Storm Lord frowned suspiciously down into his own cup of black tea, at the pot, and at the other too. 

“Is the taste of the tea not enough on its own?” 

The other two rounded on him, expressions mixed between incredulity and indignation. 

“That’s hardly the point, though.” 

“The sugar is an enhancement!” 

A little surprised by the vehemence of the response, Kord leaned back from the table. 

“I didn’t realize you felt so strongly...” 

Settling back, the Traveler and the Wildmother exchanged a speaking look. It was she who spoke, slowly, seeking the right words. 

“I suppose... it’s not so much feeling strongly as it is that it isn’t the point. The goal isn’t to have it taste of sugar instead.” 

“Though it wouldn’t be a bad thing,” the Traveler noted, adding another spoonful to his tea pretty much on principle. 

The Wildmother nodded an acknowledgement, chuckling softly. 

“There is also that. But a little sugar, or honey, can improve the taste. It isn’t required, but there’s also no point in rejecting the idea on principle. My Clay is experiencing many new things now, but he still clings to the old. The familiar.” 

The Storm Lord’s brow furrowed as he considered her words. Looked at his tea. Back at her. 

“You want him to drink new tea?” He asked warily, fully aware that he probably had it completely wrong. Just the words made the Traveler laugh, tipping his chair back onto two legs. 

“You want him to spread his wings,” he corrected gleefully, “and lean into new ways of thinking.” 

The Wildmother nodded, sighing softly. 

“And your little cleric has been... helpful with that. All of them have. But I worry that he will get... stuck. Trapped in certain lines of thought, and they will hamper him.” The lines that worry drew across her face made her seem... not older, but more human, almost. More like a creature bound to time. A mother worried for her child. 

The Traveler set his chair back to rights, his smile softening a little. 

“Travelling will help him with that,” he said a little more gently, “give him time. It’s his first time out in the world, and it’s only been a few months. And if he does get stuck, he has good people around him to pull him out.” 

The Storm Lord’s face clouded, semi literally as small thunderhead built above his head. The other two deities ignored it; personalized weather was a risk of specializing in storms. 

Instead, the Wildmother gave the Traveler a wry smile. 

“It is something I rather hoped he’d get a dose of at your “convention”, as your cleric calls it. He doesn’t know what to make of her on her own, so a gathering seems the ideal place for him to learn.” 

“Not all things are meant to be understood,” the Traveler tossed back lightly, manifesting a bucket and nudging it in front of Kord with one foot, “and certainly not to be controlled.” 

“Precisely,” the Wildmother agreed, a spark of mischief lighting in her eyes, “and he is a little too... eager to seek that control. I think I left him too long in his garden. He needs to see more of the wild.” There was a brief flare of green in the depths of her pupils, a silent emphasis to the word. 

Too many of her followers forgot that, while she was the goddess to ask for calm seas and clear skies, her name was not given lightly. Her heart lay in the wild places, ungoverned and beyond the control of the mortal races. Her favour could just as easily fall to displeasure, and she could not abide complacency. 

To follow the Wildmother was to know change, a balance that could shift at any time. And while she was kind, a mother to her charges, she was not a creature of habit. She challenged her children, and would guide them through as far as they could go. 

No god played gently with their impact on mortal lives. But that wasn’t the same as not caring. 

The Traveler, who knew her all too well after so many centuries of acquaintance, pursed his lips and considered her words. Wild, yes, but he could sense it too. It was a time for growth, and things in the prime material plane were changing. 

Something big was coming, and they may not have time for their charges to grow as gently as they might wish. 

Traveler Con could probably be described as a kick up the ass. 

**Author's Note:**

> HK: And hopefully with this I can excise my demons and relax in the knowledge that on Thursday Matt Mercer will tell me he has a plan and they haven’t totally missed Traveler Con while playing in the happy fun ball. 
> 
> Cuz like. 
> 
> I did some math and I’m worried.


End file.
